A Pirate's Life for Me
by PJOteens
Summary: Piper McLean, better known as Scarlet Farer, is captain aboard her pirate ship of marauders. Prince Jason is prince of Rome, betrothed to his fiancée Reyna. Upon hearing that the king of Rome has sent fleets to capture and kill every pirate in the Mediterranean, Piper and her crew plot to capture Prince Jason for ransom, though she may get more than what she bargained for. JASPER!
1. Chapter 1

As if my day couldn't get any worse, Mother of Monsters had to attack my ship. God damn it, why couldn't she wait until _after_ I'd finished my breakfast. Not that my breakfast was significant… Just some fruit and water and some other crap I'd found onboard. But no, the Mother had to disturb me while I was enjoying my most bountiful meal.

"Get off my ship!" I'm screaming now, brandishing my celestial bronze sword as if it's caught fire. The Mother shrieks in reply, its roar horribly magnified to crush my crew's eardrums. I see a few of my men stumble beside me, and I roar in outrage back at the Mother.

Her huge maroon tentacles are crushing my ship, each suction cup ripping away boards and ropes as they release. My boots come in contact with the hard wooden deck as she thumps the boat again, and I stumble. Seeing my weakness, the Mother's beady black eyes focus on me and she opens her frothed, beaked mouth. Three purple tongues shoot out and wrap themselves around my legs. I shriek as she lifts me up into the air, her tentacles writhing and smacking into masts.

"Screw you!" I spit as I'm lifted in front of her face. I'm dangling upside-down now, and I can feel the blood rushing to my head. The Mother roars again, foam splattering my frock. I gasp in outrage and brandish my sword again. "How the Hades am I expected to clean this? We don't have an abundance of fresh water onboard, ya dingus!" With an expert swipe, I slice through all three tongues as if they're made of butter. I'm instantly squirted with black monster blood, and I scowl as wind whistles in my ears. My last clean shirt. I glance below, instantly remembering my much bigger problems. My ship is rushing towards me in a blur, and the Mother shrieks in agony beside me. Crap.

"Percy!" I cry out, and a figure tears away from the mass of my crew battling one of the Mother's tentacles. I hear him cussing in lengths below me, and then his voice calling out for more people. A few more figures break from the group as I grow startlingly close to the ship. God damn, I was lifted high. Just as my eyes are beginning to water and the figures join Percy, I slam into the mass of bodies like a cannonball, barely scraping the deck. Percy and the other members of the crew rocket backwards with my weight, and I lie dazed on the deck for a few moments before springing up again.

"Captain, are you alright?" asks one, straightening and pulling out his sword with one dark arm. It's Sir Charles.

"I'm just peachy, Charles," I assure him, my rusty British accent clicking on the roof of my mouth. "Let's just kill this bitch." I roar and charge to the front of my ship. Percy follows with Charles and the others. As soon as I grow nearer to the Mother, I break off into a sprint, lifting off of the deck with the help of a few barrels. The Mother is too busy with Percy to notice me as I slam into the soft flesh of her arm.

"Will!" I screech, and he turns to me with his crossbow and pack. "Throw them!" He nods, his curly blond hair glinting in the sun. He hoists the pack over, and I grab it, running up the length of the Mother's arm. My boots slide on the slippery surface of her skin, but I sling the pack on my back and fasten the crossbow to my arm to grab handholds. I climb up to her gnashing head, her beaked mouth flapping with foam as she roars again at Percy. In one swift motion, I throw myself onto her face, arm the crossbow in midair, and slam down onto a curve where her nose should be, shooting right into her right eye. The Mother screams in agony, releasing some of her tentacles from my ship. She reels backward slightly, and I'm thrown off balance, slipping on my perch. I arm my crossbow quickly just as a tentacle comes up to whack me over. I fall, terrified for about half a millisecond, before my boot buckle catches on the edge of her beak. She squawks in my face, nearly making me deaf, and suddenly freezes. I grab onto her mouth and hoist myself up as she suddenly goes completely insane.

All of her tentacles let go of my ship, which rocks dangerously back and forth, the crew helplessly being thrown across the deck. Her beak opens and closes at lightning speed, aching to catch my feet of some portion of my body. _Not today, you stupid freak. _I raise one arm to fire the crossbow, and right as I pull the trigger, the Mother's beak catches my left hand. I scream in agony along with the Mother as she's blinded. Her tentacles wave in a fury high in the air, and I slip, too stunned to react. The Mother screeches one last time before disappearing in a thrashing mess below the bubbling crystal surface of the sea. I can hear muffled shouts below me, and I glance at my hand. It's still intact. That's good, right? My iron-lined gloves must have protected it. Just before I hit the deck, I remember my crossbow and fling it out of the way before I can stab any one of my crew mates. I'm enveloped by much more people this time… But it's too many. My hand is grabbed by a few people, and I feel my back arching, my throat ripped open by a scream.

"She's hurt!" a voice garbles as I slip in and out of consciousness. The last thing I see before I black out is Percy's face.

…

…

Brown. Purple. Velvet. Not dead. Not dead is good. My vision is blurred. Why can't I focus?

"Shhh," a voice coos, and my forehead is enveloped in the comforting fabric of a cool cloth. "You're hurt. It's not too bad." I raise my head and groan. I'm sore everywhere.

"C-Calypso?" I stammer, my vision tinged with blurriness. I focus on a figure in a simple white cotton garment grinding some powder with a mortar and pestle. She tips the contents of a blue glass vial into the mortar and stirs the mixture with the pestle. Content with the results, she carries it to a chair next to me.

"You need to rest. This may hurt a little." I glance down at my hand, which looks like it has recently stopped bleeding. A few of my fingers look crooked and are purple and swollen. My wrist seems a little fatter as well. A large cut runs across the back of my hand, white with cleaning fluid. Calypso spreads her mixture over my entire hand, and a spark of pain ignites at my fingertips. It spreads up my arm.

"Calypso-o-o!" I yelp through clenched teeth, but she disregards my protesting. She wraps a bandage around the length of my arm, her caramel-colored hair brushing the homemade poultice.

"Oh, bother," she sighs, brushing her messy ponytail behind her shoulder. "I just washed my hair!" The pain slowly resides as she places a hand on my forearm, closing her eyes. I roll my own. Why had I hired such a dramatic healer?

Calypso chants a few lines in Latin, and her eyes roll up into her head. I try not to get too freaked out, but I avert my eyes to stop my brain from screaming that the sight is very wrong. As she finishes her spell, she takes her hand away and smiles down at me.

"Bloody Hades, Calypso, you're one freaky healer." Calypso just giggles lightly and flits off, and I sight, slamming my head back down onto my mountain of white pillows. A small burst of warm Mediterranean air welcomes me as she closes the door to my chamber behind her. It tickles my hair and smells of flowers and salt, which is a different scent than the one I'm used to. Although different, it seems all too familiar… I'm up in a flash, swinging my legs over the side of my bed. I don't bother to pull on my boots, which are kicked aside in a dark corner. I hurry to fling open my chamber door, and I duck to enter the deck. I am greeted by the sun, which nearly blinds me, and my wind charms, which smack me in the head. I slap them aside, cradling my injured hand to my chest. I scuttle up to the front of the ship.

"What's going on here?" I demand, turning to Percy. He furrows his brow. "Don't act stupid with me, Jackson! I know we're headed for land— I can smell Rome from miles away." Percy's hands jerk on the wheel, and he sighs in defeat.

"We're low on supplies and water… And I've gotten word that the king is sending out fleets to capture the pirates around Rome… Where we were headed anyways."

"Then go the other direction! We'll land in another part of Europe and get supplies there!"

"No use. The king has stationed his men as far as the edge of Europe, as far as I know. By going straight to the heart of the situation, we may be able to find out what's going on, and at the same time avoid the fleets. They won't expect pirates to come straight to the king if they know what's good for them."

"Essentially a good idea, but how will we go in unsuspected?" I ask Percy, who raises a finger to him chin. "I mean, what in Hades would people think once they see this… this _looming_ pirate ship in the harbor of the kingdom! Someone's bound to alert the king once they spot a stinkin' ship full of pirates!" Percy winces, and I sigh, resting my hand on the wheel.

"We can send smaller boats in. We still have the load from our last raid— the one with the Princess of Betlam." I roll my eyes.

"I hated her so," I tell him, but I turn on my heels and storm back to my cabin. "Make sure you hide my ship safely!" I call over my shoulder, running my hand adoringly over one of my ship's beams. Percy shouts back something in reply, garbled by the wind. I whack away the wind chimes as I shut the door to my cabin behind me.

Once inside, I stare out my window, which is sprayed with half-dried foam from the Mother. A bit of land glints in the distance— we were most likely close to Rome by now. I'm still wary of the fleets out around the Mediterranean. I don't trust the king. I glance down at my hand, which has ceased throbbing, and I spin around to take in the sight of my lavish wardrobe. Most of my frocks are dirtied or ripped, thrown below deck for the washers to clean and sew. I ruffle through some of the outfits until I find the velvety material of the Princess of Betlam's gown. Gods, I had hated her. She did nothing but whine and wail and hit on Will Solace. I ended up dumping her somewhere in France after looting her ship. It was no use to keep her or any of her crew members.

I drop my legs into the skirt of the dress, pulling it up around my waist and torso. The laces loop around the back, and, because of the lack of the use of one of my hands, I leave them where they are. I stare at my reflection in the grimy mirror hammered into the inside of my wardrobe. A leanly muscular, tanned, stern-set young woman glares back, her choppy hair tucked up inside of a floppy brown hat. I don't spend too long looking at my face. It doesn't matter if I look good or not. I just need a disguise to get inside of the city. Gathering the fabric of the dress roughly with my good hand, I stumble to a porthole in my cabin wall.

"Annabeth!" I call, and footsteps patter quickly, drawing nearer to my chamber door. It swings open, and a pretty, hard-faced blond girl steps inside, shutting the door behind her. Her face melts into a familiar smile, and she straightens her dirty smock and plain brown slacks.

"Piper!" she exclaims, rushing to lace up the back of my dress. "You look absolutely divine!" I hush her by raising my good hand, and she pauses in the lacing. "Oh, my apologies, _Scarlet_." I can't help but smile a little. "Do you think I can get a badass name like Scarlet Farer sometime?" Annabeth eagerly reaches to lift up my hat, but I swat her hands away.

"Leave the hat on. I will not have my crew ridicule me for my outfit." Annabeth smiles.

"Always so stoic. Maybe I'll have to slay a drakon single-handed like you did to ever get some heroine title." She's by the door in a flash.

"My friend, you are, after all, the master gunner," I tell her reassuringly, straightening up in my new garments. "You're also extremely bright. And that's pretty badass as it is." Annabeth grins, turns, and is gone as suddenly as she appeared. I sigh and sink down onto my bed, finding it suddenly very hard to breathe in my getup. The humid Mediterranean air isn't helping, and I'm breaking out into beads of sweat. I finally take off my huge hat in succumb to the heat, which envelopes my entire cabin. I feel my hair cascading down my back and over my shoulders in choppy strands and beaded, braided portions. I cut my own hair, of course, and I'm not very good at it.

The door swings open, and I grapple for my hat, shoving it onto my head. It's Percy, half a smile lighting up his dirtied face, his loose white smock hanging over one shoulder.

"We're here."

**A/N: Please review and tell me what you think! **


	2. Chapter 2

The fabric of the heavy dress brushes against my legs as I step out of my cabin door. It slams behind me with a rattle, the wind chimes jittering and jangling in turn. I'm greeted immediately by a wavering wolf whistle, most likely from Will on lookout. I flip him off in reply, shooting daggers in his general direction.

I turn to examine the view from the side of the ship, one hand poised on my hat to keep it from fluttering away. A bustling harbor is stretched out before us, the walls of Rome glinting in the distance. Will has switched our signature scarlet flag for one of the Roman Empire, and I can see that several of the members of my crew have donned decent attire. Percy motions for me by the wheel.

"Loving the outfit," he says with a grin, his gaze still set on the horizon. I scowl and place my hands on my hips.

"Shut up. How far until the harbor entrance?" I ask him. His shoulders bob slightly.

"Few minutes. What's the plan so far?" He slaps a stray, unseen bug. I find myself pulling at the fabric of my skirt.

"So far?" He nods. "Jack the prince." He snorts, jerking the wheel to avoid an oncoming sailor's boat.

"Sounds good enough to me," he says with a growl somewhere deep in his throat. "Once the pretty boy's up here—"

"Pretty boy?" I ask, raising an eyebrow. Percy steals a glance at me.

"Yeah. Supposedly he's some extremely handsome bloke… Stupid, if you ask me. Annabeth always goes on about him…" I can feel my eyebrows shooting up to my hairline.

"Annabeth?" A grin plays across my lips. I can see Percy stiffening. "So you're hanging around her again? But I thought she worked below deck…" Percy's ears redden immediately.

"What? Well, I—," he splutters, one of his hands slipping from the wheel. He slaps it back on in a rush. "I have to eat _somewhere, _right?"

"And below deck seems the most appropriate," I remark, stifling a laugh. Everyone on my ship except for Percy himself seems to know that Percy has had a huge crush on Annabeth since he first laid eyes on her. I just take my time in humoring him and hinting to Annabeth, who I'm pretty sure also might like him a little. I grin as Percy shifts uncomfortably.

"Whatever, Scarlet. I'm just sayin' that the prince is a little good looking, and I don't like it." He sets his jaw and squints at the horizon.

"Alright," I say, but a smile still escapes my lips. The gates of the kingdom are in sight. "Ready the crew. I'll be packing what's necessary." I pick up my skirt and clomp down the stairs, a string of catcalls following me.

"Shut up!" I yell, and everyone falls silent. I can feel Will's eyes on me from lookout still, so I flip him off again without turning around. This time I don't quiet the calls that follow.

…

The walkway slams down onto the dock of Rome with a loud bang. Percy steps down it first, cautiously, and holds my hand as he leads the way. We're pretending to be a married, wealthy couple, which is one of our favorite acts. We're rather professional about our acting. One day in Morocco, maybe we're peasants, and the next day it's as if we've never existed (and your supply of gold is gone). Or maybe one day in France we're both professional chefs. It's rather fun, actually.

As I step down onto the dock, a few workers part for us. I hide my oncoming smile, but curtsy to them in thanks. The dress is hot and heavy and I want to take it off, but the pressure of Percy's hand on mine reminds that if we're caught, I won't be wearing anything else ever again.

"Madame," a squire greets us, his ghastly gray wig tipped to one side. I see Percy's shoulders shaking from silent chuckling.

"Sir," I reply, my rusty British accent suddenly sounding extremely elegant. "We are hoping to see the prince today. Is there any way we may be able to? I am of high rank, and my husband, Egbert, here—"

"Egbert?" Percy scoffs indignantly. The squire raises an eyebrow as Percy clears his throat.

"I'm sorry. Yes, I'm _Egbert._" He nearly spits out the word. "I merely thought my wife, Eugena, said… Robert. Yes." I squeeze his hand hard to make him wince. Eugena. Nice one.

"Eugena and Egbert," the squire repeats, one eyebrow still inching towards his hairline. He claps his hand softly. "Well, anyways, there is one way you could meet the prince."

"Oh, dear sir, how so?" I inquire politely. Percy bites his lip to keep from smiling. I, myself, am stifling giggles.

"There's a party down by the palace tonight… It's rather public, of course. Only peasants aren't admitted. He'll be amongst the crowd to show off his new bride." The squire laughs.

"What's so funny?" Percy asks, and the squire shrugs.

"Oh, nothing. But," he says in a lower tone, leaning closer. We lean in a little to catch his words. "His bride, Reyna, is of a far-off kingdom. Rather exotic, and she has a rather… Refreshing temper."

"Refreshing?" I repeat, a little intrigued now.

"It's almost crystal clear that she despises the prince and this land," the squire chuckles, tucking his hands into the folds of his attire. He pulls out a pocket watch. "My!" he exclaims, startling Percy. "I must be off."

"Much thanks for the help," Percy tells him, and the man takes off with a small wave. As soon as he's out of earshot, I elbow Percy hard in the ribs.

"Nice one, Egbert."

"Don't mention it, Eugena," he spits back, rubbing his side. I half-smile as we make our way through the crowd.


	3. Chapter 3

**Enjoy! Make sure you review and tell me what you think!**

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_Prince Jason_

She won't talk to me. She never does. I tried to kiss her the other night, and she almost slapped me across my face. I can barely stand to see her so closed off. She's beautiful, but that's about it. I barely know a thing about her, and she doesn't really want me to anyways.

She's fierce. That's maybe all I know. I know she's the daughter of a king from Martlen, which is somewhere off where the sun is hot and the land is harsh. I know we are to be married to escape a war. I know she knows this. It must be why she despises me so. She doesn't want to marry me. She doesn't love me. This much I know.

"Reyna," I whisper to the figure lying beside me. She doesn't stir, but I know she is awake. Her breathing isn't as even as it is when she's sleeping. "It's late. We have to get up." She still doesn't move. I know she was crying last night. It hurts me to see her this heartbroken, but I don't know what I can do about it.

"Leave me." Her voice is cracked and foreign, the slightly hispanic accent playing across her tongue. My eyes find a freckle behind her right ear.

"No. We have to get up. You have to get ready. We have a party tonight to attend." She rises suddenly, all furrowed eyebrows and crinkled cotton nightgown.

"What if I don't want to go?" she says fiercely, her dark eyes glittering. "What if I don't want to be here?" She motions to the room, to the bed and the three feet of fresh linen that separates us when we sleep. "What if I don't want you?" She scowls and her gaze pierces right through me. I sigh and sink down to rest my face in my hands. "Prince Jason, I loved once. This isn't love. This isn't right. I want to go home." Her voice doesn't waver. It's stiff and stubborn.

"I know you do," I say carefully. I've repeated this phrase several times already. "I want you to go home, too. I know you aren't happy." I can hear her scoffing indignantly.

"Then tell your uncle. Tell him to let me go home. My heart is there, and not in this filthy rubbish town." Her accent runs her words together, slurring the last few lines. I hear the sheets shifting and feel the mattress lifting slightly. Soft footsteps patter towards the washroom, and I hear the door slam shut. I raise my head. How were we going to manage after we were married? I don't love her, either. I want her to go home. But my uncle tells me that until the tension with the king of Martlen blows over, we must keep good terms with him. I think that's an excuse for covering up a possibility of holding someone of importance hostage during war times.

I rise and make my way over to a vanity mirror, inspecting my tousled blond hair. My linen top is thrown carelessly over one shoulder, and my eyes have small bags underneath them. I sigh and rub my chin, the hard line of my jaw twitching. Perhaps Reyna will tonight find someone she will be happy with, if not anyone. If she cannot have me, I just wish she will be happy in the future. I must tell my uncle then.

My outfit for the party lays crisp and cleaned on one of the chairs. Reyna's own purple gown is laid out next to it. I rub the fabric between my fingers before glancing out the window. The sun is bright today, and I know it will be sweltering even from inside my cool chamber. I can smell the roses on my windowsill even across the enormous room. I turn back to my outfit with a sigh. Tonight is a chance to be happy.

…

The musician's lilting, romantic melodies lure me from the palace and out onto the warm evening grounds. People mill around pleasantly, clinking glasses of iced champagne and dancing a little. The sun has barely gone down, and the air is still warm. Fireflies are beginning to appear in the bushes of the terrace and the gardens, dotting the skies like the stars themselves. Many maidens nearest to me draw closer, and I shift uncomfortably. One asks for a dance eagerly.

"Oh, no, I shouldn't," I tell her, and she withers like a dried flower.

"Why not? Because you wait on Reyna?" She curls her lips. "Nearly the whole kingdoms knows that she absolutely despises you." With a sniff, she walks off, and a few girls break away from the group to comfort her.

The words are familiar, yet they still sting. How can I marry someone who hates me almost completely? What did my uncle expect, stealing some foreign maiden away from her love and her family? When I come of age next month and become king, I will surely release her on new terms.

Before I can venture further into the corners of my mind, the door creaks open behind me. I can hear the clanking of the guards moving aside as I turn.

Reyna stands at the top of the steps to the palace, her lovely purple dress falling to her toes. It makes a wonderful ruffling sounds as she steps and leaves her freckled, tanned shoulders bare. She is stunning, yet I don't feel longing nor love when she glances at me. Her gaze is wary and dangerous, as if she will whip out a knife and stab me if I make any moves.

"You look lovely," I venture, offering her my hand. She hesitates, ferocity in her eyes, and then grips it so tightly that I can't feel my fingers.

"We will not dance," she hisses in a low voice. I nod curtly. "You will not compliment me, Prince Jason." In a moment, my hand is released and she is gone. Probably off into the crowd to dive into the refreshments. I often find her drunk at night crying, and when I attempt to bring her back to the chamber, she rips herself away, attempts to slap me, and curses at me in her land's language. I sigh and turn back to the crowd.

The young men have begun to dance with the young ladies. I know I am expected to be dancing or eating right now with Reyna, but I cannot bring myself to find her. If she wants to drink until she's spent, I'll leave her to it.

I make my way towards a banquet table that's piled high with food. Many lords and ladies attempt to speak with me, vying for my attention, but I wave them off without a word to signify that I am famished. I really am.

Once my plate is full, I join a group of well-mannered dukes who are watching the young couples dance. They make note of the girls' dresses and the way one boy continues to step on the girls' toes. I chuckle to myself, content with the food.

The potatoes are making me thirsty, so I rise to grab myself a drink. Just as I am picking up a glass of champagne, a young man comes barreling towards me, holding his hand onto his head. His face is flushed.

"Prince! My prince!" He seems very tense and very troubled. His dark brows are knit tightly upon his forehead.

"What is it?" I can't help but feel the concern that emanates from the young man. He must not be more than eighteen. His eyes are sea green and I can see that beneath his cap his hair is dark and very tousled. He smells of fish once he draws nearer.

"Your bride-to-be! Your dove!" He seems very breathless, though I cannot see any color tinting his cheeks. I can't place his rusty British accent. But then I think of Reyna. Something must be very wrong.

"What about her?" I hear the urgency in my voice. The young man bends over slightly to catch his breath, and then he straightens.

"She is hurt! Got into some trouble by the wine table. Now she is in the gardens. I do suggest that you see to her immediately!" He points in the direction of the terrace gardens.

"Where is she?" I demand.

"She cried that she wanted to see the roses as they healed her," the man says. I turn to the gardens. _But Reyna hates roses._ I remember clearly her distaste at seeing them on my windowpane every morning. But Reyna is hurt, and though she may not like me, I must see to her. I turn back to thank the man, but he is gone.

I make my way towards the gardens, excusing myself from the guests that call out for me. As I turn the corner on the gravel of the terrace, I see a young woman in a magnificent dress standing in the gardens by the roses. She isn't Reyna, but Reyna must be close by.

"Where is Reyna?" I demand, now near to the woman. She motions to me and points around the corner of a hedge. I nearly do a double take because the woman is beautiful. Her eyes distract me. They flicker between the color of the leaves, blues, and browns. Her tan face is freckled from the sun, her nose slightly peeling, her lips full and chapped. I have never seen such a stunning lady look so much like she had been through the roughest of weather.

"Your love is around the corner," the woman says, and I hear hints of a rusty British accent behind a posh one. Perhaps she isn't from around here? I take a step to round the corner, conscious of the lovely lady's eyes following me. As I peek around, I see no one.

"What—?" I begin, but I'm cut off instantly. A bag of rough material is thrown over my head, a rusty woman's voice calling out for someone named Percy. A pair of arms ties my thrashing legs together in seconds, and another ties my hands behind my back. I fall to the ground rather violently before remembering my voice can work. I'm screaming out for help when I inhale a ragged breath full of something extremely intense. My mind relaxes and my limbs turn to jelly as I fall, totally at ease, onto the gravel of the rose garden.

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**I'm at the-star-trekker (d0t) tumblr (d0t) com**


	4. Chapter 4

**Shorter chapter, but I hope you enjoy!**

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"He's bloody heavy!" Percy groans, and I burst out laughing under the strain of dragging Prince Jason. My dress keeps getting caught under his head.

"What's up with the British cursing?" I ask, my voice a little stretched. Percy coughs.

"You don't like it?" he asks. I raise an eyebrow.

"It's not because Annabeth curses that way, is it?" Percy turns bright red and begins to splutter indignantly.

"Of course not! Why in the world would I care about that? Not that I don't care about Annabeth. She's lovely— I mean as a person, yes! But no, I'm not cursing because she curses exactly like I am—!"

"You're such a goner," I laugh, and he splutters into silence like an old rutter. "I'm pretty sure she likes you, too." Percy's head is whipped upwards in a flash.

"Really?" he almost shouts, and I hush him. He grunts. "I think we should maybe talk about this later when we're not carrying the body of a passed-out prince of Rome whom we just kidnapped."

"You make it sound so dreary," I counter, almost tripping over my dress again. We've nearly reached the woods backpedaling. We're facing the festivities, eyeing the dancers and people carefully to make sure no one notices us. There is a small gap of distance between the gardens and the tree line.

"Well, it is! What are we going to do, hold him for ransom until the king gives us what we want?"

"That's the plan," I say breathlessly, grinning. He rolls his eyes, but he's also smiling. We haven't gotten a good load since looting the ancient treasures of a queen of France a month back. I can tell Percy is itching to collect more loot.

Just as we near the edge of the forest, laughing and talking, I hear a shout.

"Stop right there!" A guard is streaking right towards us. "Release the prince or face your imminent deaths!" How dramatic. The guard's shouts are drawing the attention of the partygoers. The music halts to a dissonant stop. A few more guards break away from the celebration and follow the first one.

"Shit!" I yelp, and Percy and I hoist up Prince Jason's body. We streak into the woods, the clanging of armor not too far behind us.

"Which way to the ship?" Percy yells as we dodge a tree.

"I thought you were going to remember that!" I holler back, and we break away from the tree line on the other side of the thin forest. A market square unfolds before us, less busy than usual because of the people at the party. The guards are screaming at us from the trees. A few peasants and merchants look up in shock to see their prince with a sack over his head being dragged by a lady and a young man. I wonder how ridiculous we must look.

"MOVE!" Percy screams at the crowd, and they immediately obey. We streak through them and sprint towards the dock, the prince's head hitting the ground a few times with our speed. My arms are growing tired, and the guards have already come out of the forest, furious.

"There they are!" one shouts, and the whole flurry of them storm after us, swords and shields raised.

"Fuck!" Percy screeches as we slam our way onto a dock in the harbor. Chickens squawk as we knock over barrels and cages. We run down the long walkway to our ship, other fishermen squinting at us in confusion.

"WILL!" I scream at our ship, which is resting at the very end of the dock. I can just make out a figure swinging from the mast. "UNTIE HER!" A dozen of my crew members immediately jump off the ship to untie her. The guards aren't too far behind. They've just begun to run down the dock after us. The ship is fully untied by the time we get there, and it's inching away. Will, his sun-bleached hair glinting silver in the moonlight, grabs the prince's shoulders and hoists his limp body over the side of the ship.

"Damn, he's heavy," Will comments with a wink at me. I shove him over the side of the ship with a roll of my eyes, knowing that the guards are only a few yards away.

"Go, go, go!" Percy is shrieking, and I begin to climb over. I hear fabric tearing as my stupid dress gets caught on one of the rungs of the portholes. I hate dresses. Whatever's ripped off falls into the water of the harbor as the ship pulls three feet away from the dock. Five feet. Ten feet.

"Halt, in the name of Rome!" The guards stand at the edge of the dock, helplessly chucking swords and attempting to grab Percy's legs. He flounders a little. I pull myself over the side of the ship, and Percy does as well. We lie on the deck for a few moments, panting heavily. I notice the bottom half of my dress is torn, the hem ragged and coming down to about my knees. Great. I stand and look straight at the guards who are fidgeting at the dock. One is pestering a stubborn fisherman to give them his boat. I smile benevolently and raise both of my hands to flip them off.

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	5. Chapter 5

_Prince Jason_

What's going on?

Why is everything black?

Why does my head feel like it's been banged on a hard surface repeatedly?

Then I remember. The beautiful lady. Some man named Percy. I had been knocked out by some strong salts of some sort. What did they want? Were they murderers? Assassins? I gasp for air, some scent burning the inside of my nostrils.

I feel my hands and wiggle a little. My sense of direction kicks in and I notice how I'm tilted a little. I'm on a ship. I'm tied up. I can feel the ropes. I'm on the ground. Maybe if I can inch in some direction…

Footsteps. Calm and not too heavy. Sounds like boots on wood.

"You're awake." It's the same woman who had the rusty voice when I was blinded. I groan a little in reply, my lungs feeling sore and dry. "Talkative." Her voice is dripping with sarcasm. There's a pause in her footsteps, and then the burlap bag is ripped from my head, the material scratching my nose a little. I'm almost blinded by sunlight streaming in through an unseen window. I glance around quickly to make myself familiar with my surroundings. A small bedside table is close by, a shiny knife glinting near its edge. I begin to inch very slowly towards the table.

"Where do you think you're going?" the rusty voice asks. I turn to its source. It's the woman. The pretty woman. But her hair is now tucked up inside of a floppy hat, one hoop earring pierced through her left ear. She's no longer wearing a somber expression, but rather a crooked, childish grin. She's discarded her fine drapes and is wearing a familiar outfit. It reminds me of a pirate's attire. My breath catches in my throat. She's stunning.

"Are you… A pirate?" I manage, attempting to distract the pretty woman. My voice sounds raw and tired. The lady laughs.

"Don't flatter yourself. I'm not too particular with my hostages," the woman says with an impish grin. She steps fully out of the shadows and into the beam of sunlight. "Scarlet Farer." She says it like more of a statement than an introduction. I'm almost to the bedside table, but I freeze. The Scarlet Farer. She's the most dangerous pirate in the Mediterranean. My friends all tell legends of her and how she once had slain a drakon single-handedly.

"Oh." My voice is incredibly squeaky as I inch towards the table more halfheartedly. "Um. Well, since you're so dangerous and all, can you maybe untie my hands?" With a flash, Scarlet's sword is out, the tip pointed at my chin. I feel it quivering and I swallow down a lump of terror building.

"I suppose," Scarlet sighs, though her sword doesn't move. She draws closer, angling her sword differently like she's imagining all the ways she could cut me up. "Don't try anything funny." She sounds bored, but when she flits forward, quick as a shadow, I know she's far from phlegmatic. Her hand darts out and pulls my face up to look at her. Her eyes narrow dangerously, and I feel myself reddening as she inspects every inch of my face. "Percy was right," she concludes after a few moments, and she releases my face. My heart ceases to patter restlessly. I begin to relax, but then her sword flashes down quickly. I wince and shut my eyes, waiting for the sting of a blade.

"You're also a baby," Scarlet notes, a tinge of humor coating her voice. I open my eyes slowly to look back at her. "Your ropes are cut," she informs me in a bored tone, inspecting her blade. I wiggle my hands and feet to make sure. Sure enough, the ropes that had bound me have been sliced clean off.

In a flash, I've banged the bedside table, grabbed the falling knife, and jumped to my feet. Scarlet's head raises slowly, and she stares blankly at the knife in my hands. She hasn't raised her sword.

"Don't move," I tell her, my voice quivering slightly. I will my hand to stop shaking. Scarlet shifts her weight to one hip, looking rather uninterested. That couldn't be good. I decide to try to intimidate her. "I've been trained in combat since I turned four. I fight better than all of my advisers with both a knife and a sword. I can deflect the swipes of axes with a knife. I can—"

Scarlet's hand darts forward, and before I can react, my knife has clattered to the floor. My hand floats in midair, and I can feel my jaw dropping. I never even saw her sword move.

"That was rather sad, Prince Jason," Scarlet drones. She walks towards me, swoops down to pick up the knife, and hands it back to me. "Let's try again later, shall we? I personally don't like princes touching my knives, but I have a feeling you won't try to attack me for a while. Oh, and if you make any advances on my crew, I'll personally see to it that you are thrown overboard and drowned. Agreed?" I feel myself nodding, stunned. She nods back, tilting her hat slightly over one eye. "Alright. Follow me, then." She begins to walk away towards a door at the front of the small, dismal room. I follow a little hesitantly. I don't trust her at all, but if I value my life, I will do as she wishes. I'll find a way to escape soon enough.

Scarlet is waiting for me outside. I close the porthole behind me, and right as I turn, I'm smacked in the face by about a dozen wind chimes.

"My Lord!" I cry, and Scarlet snorts, pushing herself off of a beam in front of the room. The sun is blinding me. "What time is it?" I ask. Last I remember, it was nighttime when I was attacked.

"Nearly noon." Without another word, Scarlet swings off the top of the deck where the room rests. I gape as I watch her wide-brimmed hat flutter out of sight. Concerned for some reason, I sprint to the edge to look for her. I spot her as she lands with a soft thump. She straightens as my hands grip the railing. A smile plays on her lips. It's almost teasing. I pull away from the railing and follow her by stumbling down a small flight of stairs. As I do, I feel about a dozen unseen eyes on me.

"What? Where are we going? Why was I captured?" I blurt out, jogging to catch up with Scarlet. She turns her head slightly to eye me.

"Ransom," she says simply, turning back to face the front of the ship, her garments swishing as she steps. "You're talkative." I choke a little and stumble forward to stop her. My hand flies out to rest on her shoulder. She freezes.

"Ransom?" I take back my hand, for some reason feeling as if I've crossed some sort of sacred border. Scarlet pauses. Her pretty eyes flicker around the deck before resting on my face. My insides liquefy as her intense gaze meets my eyes.

"Your uncle wanted to kill us." She motions to the entire ship. _"Us" _must refer to those I can't see at the moment— her crew. She's stiff for a moment, her eyes distant. She must care for them a lot.

"How much?" I squeak, my voice unnaturally rusty-sounding. Scarlet snaps back to reality as I clear my throat. "How much do you want, I mean? Because we can supply it. I promise— Just as long as you let me go free…"

"As much as it takes," she interrupts, sounding deadly serious. I feel a small shudder climb my spine. "But, don't worry." She turns back to me. Her expression isn't soft, but I can feel some sympathy in her gaze. "We don't kill people on the first day." My breath hitches in my throat as I silently choke on air. Scarlet smiles coldly, a bit of humor glinting in her eyes. My cheeks heat up quickly. Scarlet strides towards the front of the ship to a figure standing at the wheel. I stumble to catch up.

"The prince," the figure greets me. It's the green-eyed young man from last night. He's handsome, I draw, with his sharp jawline and tousled black hair. His eyes nearly mirror the bright sea. As I look into them, a little afraid, I see humor and mockery. Anger rises through me, and before I can stop the twitching in my right hand, emotions consume me, despite my calm-yet-terrified state earlier. I swing out at the young man, my mind suddenly on fast-forward. If I could catch him off-guard, maybe I could jump overboard and escape…

My hand has stopped in midair. The young man is laughing, nearly doubled over from shudders of chuckling. His white tunic top hangs off of one sun-tanned shoulder. I wriggle my fingers, noticing that Scarlet is gripping my wrist tightly. She's caught my blow. I spin to look at her, and I'm greeted by her hypnotic eyes.

"I said not to threaten my crew," she drones, her tone contrasting drastically with the young man's loud laughter. "This is Percy." Yeah. The young man who helped to capture me. "My friend." She almost hisses the last line, throwing my hand back down to my side. My wrist tingles where she's touched it. Percy straightens, thrusting out one hand in greeting while the other wipes tears from his eyes.

"And I thought you would have learned not to screw with her," he sighs with a smile as I cautiously grip his hand. He shakes it up and down a little before releasing my hand. Scarlet tugs her hat down onto her head, but I can see a few strands of jagged hair escaping the brim. Her silhouette is a little hard to see against the sunlight on the Mediterranean water. Just as I'm reaching up to cover my forehead to try to see better, a loud whistle shatters the air. I almost jump out of my garments. I can hear Percy chuckling behind me.

I turn to the layout of the ship which I've had my back to. People, colorful people, are scattered amongst the barrels and boards now thought they weren't there moments ago. A young man even drops down on a rope from the mast a few feet away. He ventures a little closer, immediately sizing me up. He has sun-kissed skin, blindingly white teeth, and golden hair. I almost pale in comparison, and I self-consciously reach up to touch my own blond hair, which has grown longer out of its usual shorter-cropped style. A few strands tickle my forehead right above my eyebrows.

"Well, well. Looks like the prince is awake." The boy grins at Scarlet, who is standing behind me.

"I'm sure you already knew that, didn't you, Will?" Percy snorts from somewhere to my right. "Sizing up the competition already?" I'm confused.

"Oh, we already know there isn't any competition, right, Captain? I'm all yours." Will winks at an unseen Scarlet, and I wince.

"No, you're not," Scarlet pipes up, and my insides untwist a little. The crew behind an unfazed Will laughs. "Prince Jason," she whispers, suddenly right next to my ear. I shudder at her breath on my neck. "This is my crew." She draws away from my face, though I still feel her next to me. I stare at each of the faces in front of me.

"Pretty boy!" one whistles suddenly, breaking a momentary silence. I feel myself flushing and then reddening from embarrassment. A small group of young men whistle, grinning, while a handful of young women shove them or stare up at me. One girl streaks forward, her long, black hair shining in the sun. She's pretty and tall, but her face looks like she's one of those people who would be smiling one moment and all knives the next. She draws up next to me, and my breath catches in my throat. I feel myself growing redder. Go away, go away, go away, please…

"Cute, huh?" She looks me up at down as if I'm some object. Her dark lashes flutter as she rests a hand on my shoulder. "Good aura. Strong." She slides her hand down my arm. I feel extremely uncomfortable, and I shift my weight, unsure of what to do.

"That's enough, Drew," Scarlet says firmly behind me. The girl, Drew, whines in protest, but lets go of my forearm. She flutters back towards the crew, smiling devilishly at me. I feel my face heating up even more.

"He's emba-rrassed," Drew sings, swaying from side to side, her long, gypsy-like skirt fluttering in the breeze. A chorus of chuckles rises from the group.

"I said that's enough." Scarlet's voice is almost fierce. When Drew continues to smile, Scarlet steps forward so I can see her whole body. Her white top is loose, her dark pants hugging her legs. I can just see her one golden hoop glinting in her ear. "Not too long ago, you were in this position, being introduced to my friends, _my crew, _as some poor, skinny, broke, orphaned psychic I picked up on the coast of Jemyba." Drew freezes, her grin disappearing instantly. Her head lowers in shame. There's a moment of silence before Scarlet turns to me. "Now, you'll have time to meet everyone soon enough. Meanwhile, we've sent some nearby sailors news that we're here, and also a message to deliver to your uncle. We've demanded 50,000 jem and the right to never be bothered by your petty kingdom again. If he sends the sailors back with the goods and news that he's agreed to my terms, we'll release you. But if he doesn't, we'll kill you." I feel my heart dropping into my stomach, my hands beginning to sweat. Scarlet's expression doesn't waver.

…

_Scarlet Farer_

Such a shame to be possibly wasting such a pretty face. He's shocked, of course. Learning that you may die in the near future can come as a shock to some. Especially to lowly princes who've been pampered all of their lives.

No doubt he'll try to escape again. He underestimates me. He's already attempted to attack Percy. That definitely pissed me off.

I'm staring at him now, his bright eyes filled with disbelief. His sharp jawline makes me twitch uncomfortably for some reason. Even Percy's isn't as outlined. His gaze is stern even as it's weak, which is something I find strange. He's close to me. I can almost feel the waves of fear emanating from him. I can't tear my gaze away.

"We'll be glad to supply you with what you need." His voice is unnaturally high, most likely from fear. I know he only wants to live.

"Good. We'll be sailing around to keep on the move for a while. If you try to escape again, we'll put you in the prison below deck instead of keeping you around. Do you understand?" No loose terms. I'm fair (it's half of the reason I've gotten my name), but I'm also firm. The prince nods quickly, and I smile coldly back at him. I can't afford to appear soft at times like these. These are serious times.

My thoughts are suddenly interrupted by a yelling Sir Charles.

"Captain! Captain!" He's sprinting towards me, his feathered hat almost falling off of his head. His sword is drawn and is glinting in the sun. I straighten instantly, my hand flying to the hilt of my sword. Cold celestial bronze warms at the contact of my fingers. What in the Hades could it be now? If it was another fricking monster…

"What is it?" I'm on alert instantly, listening for any roars or telltale signs of attack.

"It's… It's the Rocks of Sirens, milady." Charles is frantic, and the whole deck is suddenly plunged into madness. The only one smiling is Will. Crap.

"Sirens?" I spin around to Percy, who's staring incredulously out in front of the wheel. "What the hell, Percy?" He raises his hands in exasperation, spinning around to look all around the ship. I can just make out the shape of the dark rocks against the horizon. "How did we end up heading towards the sirens?"

"Sirens?" the prince exclaims, his voice frantic. I ignore him.

"I have no friggin' idea!" Percy exclaims. "We were headed towards Greece, I swear! Just an instant ago…"

"Sail around them," the prince pipes up from behind me, but I turn towards him solemnly.

"You can't." He pales visibly. "Once you come in contact with certain monsters' territories here, sometimes they won't let you escape. And I know for a fact that once the sirens sense a ship coming near them, they'll never let you get away. No matter where we go, we'll always end up having to sail through the Rocks of Sirens."

"Shit." Percy's muttering to himself, gathering up his sailing instruments from the wheel. The rocks look unnaturally closer than they did a few minutes ago.

"Get below deck!" I scream at my panicking crew, who gladly do as I say. I rush down to lock the door from the outside so they won't be able to escape or unlock it from the inside. "Plug you ears!" I yell through the keyhole, and I get muffled yelps of consent from the other side. I hear receding footsteps on the wooden stairs to the deck below, and I sigh in relief. I turn back to the front of the ship. Percy's walking towards me, his arms filled with his instruments. The prince looks lost, slowly following Percy. My eyes drift to beyond the pair.

The air is growing increasingly colder, a grayish mist setting in around the boat. The rocks are very close now, and I can hear the crashing of waves on them. Just before the view is swallowed by the mist, I spot the wreckage of a ship.

"We need to hurry," I tell Percy. "You and the prince should both get into my cabin. I can lock it from the outside…" My voice trails off. There's no way I can guarantee all of us can get to safety. Even if two are locked inside safely, one has to remain outside. And the one outside can't get tied up because there's no one there to help. Three can't go inside because, if even one person hears the songs, they'll immediately unlock the door.

"Get inside," I whisper to them both, but Percy shakes his head.

"No way," he stammers, his face turning pale. "I'm not going to let you die." I roll my eyes.

"Don't be so heroic. Get inside." But Percy continues to shake his head. He drops his instruments with a clatter, and I stoop immediately to help him pick them up. He motions for me to stop, and draws a bar of wax out of the mess.

"From the bee monster we killed in Transylvania. Stuff it in your ears. Quickly." He and Jason begin to stuff their ears with the stuff, and I reach down as they finish. Just as I'm breaking off a fair-sized amount, a sharp, high, clear note pierces through the mist. I freeze, immediately dropping the wax.

All sounds seem to drain away except for the one note. As it climbs, it splits into three notes, all wavering with beautiful, blissful intensity. I want to follow them. I want to chase the notes. The notes split again, into five trilling, ominous lines, and a sudden desperation fills my chest. I want to follow the notes. I want to chase the notes. I need to follow them. I must follow them.

A sudden feeling of intense want hits me like a tidal wave just as the ship rocks rather dangerously. And then the thoughts of my ship fade. Everything is deathly silent except for the trilling notes. One hangs in midair, and I listen to it as if my life hangs in the balance. The note is the string tethering me to this world, and as I wait to listen for more, lifting myself onto the tips of my toes, it breaks.

I break. In one swift motion I'm hurled overboard by some tugging in my gut. I'm not forced to— I want to. The music is ahead of me, and I want to go to it. I want to find it.

Tears begin to stream down my face as I look around wildly for the music. I've never wanted anything this badly in my entire life. I can't feel the water against my skin, nor do I care. I just want to go to the music.

My hands slip through the water in desperation, my clothes slowly growing heavier with the extra weight. A splash breaks my silence suddenly, and two heads, one blond and one black-haired, bob up next to me. No. No. They're here. They're here to take away my music.

I claw at the water harder, pushing my way towards something in the distance. I feel a hand on my leg, but I shake it away, harder and harder. An arm reaches out to grab me, but I rip myself out of its grasp. Just as I've pulled myself a safe distance away from the two heads, my mouth filling with water, my chest burning for air, I see it.

I see it.

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	6. Chapter 6

**Very short chapter, but I hope you enjoy!**

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Mom. Mom. _Mom!_

She's there. I can see her. She's right in front of me. Shiny, glossed dark locks. Flashing blue and green eyes. Familiar blouse and long velvet skirt. Glittering ruby crown that contrasts so perfectly with her hair. My heart aches in response to the sight of her. My whole being seems to sigh.

After the sadness comes a surge of want. Tears are streaming down my face as the woman turns to smile at me. I reach forward, my head bobbing just above the surface. I need her. I want her back. I want her back so badly.

My mother looks to her right, and my arm sinks below the surface as her gaze breaks contact with my eyes. My legs are kicking furiously, and I want to get closer… But it's almost as if she's getting further and further away.

My father is there suddenly, all dark hair and sideburns just beginning to gray, and handsome cheekbones and tailored kingly suit.

I'm reaching out; reaching out as far as my arms can stretch. My arms are dripping with water, my hands numb and paler than usual in the grayish mist. My father notices me and laughs, his lovely smile playing across his lips. I can't hear it. I wish I could.

I begin to cry harder, yelling their names out into the mist. I can't hear myself, but I keep shouting and shouting, ripping at the water to get to them. My father looks at my mother, and she him, and then they turn to me, raising their hands. _Come on, Piper! Hurry up!_ Their smiles are inviting and sad, yet happy at the same time. I sob into the water, choking on the small waves, bobbing up and down furiously. Just as I reach out again, my father smiles a little sadly at me and begins to turn away with my mother. _No. No. No, come back!_ I'm desperate now, reaching for them, slipping slowly under the water.

My head submerges, and I'm met with a perfect silence. I can feel some immense sadness lifting, and every bit of music fading out. My brain goes on fast forward just as I'm pushing up to the surface, hoping to God that my parents are still there, that they'll be waiting.

No. Sirens. Sirens are here. I can't go up. _I can't go up._ I whip my head around underwater, terrified, hoping that no sirens have noticed I've temporarily broken the spell. I can sloshing and the crashing of waves against rocks as the perfect silence is broken and an arm slips around my waist. I thrash and kick hard, hoping to God that it isn't a siren.

My head is pushed back up to the surface, and I whip around to see the prince grasping onto me.

"Stop… Kicking!" he gasps, a little too loudly because he can't hear himself speaking with the wax in. I cease my thrashing and go limp so he can carry me back to the boat. Just as we're nearing it, the singing comes back, faster and louder. It rips right through my being and throws memories into my head, and suddenly, I'm surrounded by scenes.

Me ripping my hand out of Prince Dylan's. My father on his knees. My mother, her perfect white dress stained red with blood, the tip of a silver knife just sticking out from between her shoulder blades, her beautiful face strangely at peace. My father, his crown knocked off his head, sword in hand, his own face stricken with grief and incredible anger. Dead men strewn about the ground. I begin to sob again, each sob racking my body as I thrash and thrash. I need to help. _I have to help._

There's a rope around my waist tugging me up to my moving ship. It's almost clear of the rocks, and I can see Percy at the top, heaving me up to the deck. My fingers are scrambling at the knot, my fists beating at the side of the ship. The prince is next to me, his face solemn. I plead with him, sobbing and sobbing. _Please. Please! I need to save them!_

His arms raise and shove something into my ears. My nails rip out at his arms, but I miss, and my fingers are suddenly caught in his shirt. The music fades. My eyes widen. My head clears.

I'm blushing. I never blush. I've been a fool. I look down at my hands, which are wrapped up in the prince's shirt. He's looking right at me, straight into my eyes. I pry my hands free, pulling them to my chest as if I've burned them. The prince's eyes are filled with pity. Harsh, plain pity. And I can't stand it.

We hit the side of the ship and scramble over, Percy taking my arms. I flop on top of him onto the deck, and I hold back shuddering breaths and curse myself for being on the verge of tears. He holds me for a few moments, brushing my wet hair out of my eyes, shushing me though I can't hear him.

It takes me a minute to realize that my hat is gone.

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	7. Chapter 7

**Sorry for the reallllyyyyyyy late update! I've been super busy with summer classes and sports because I'm going into high school! Anyways, I hope you enjoy! :D**

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_Scarlet Farer_

"Madame? Are you in there?" Percy's voice echoes through my door. I shiver and press myself against my covers, mortification still gripping my stomach. My hair is still damp from the icy water, and the siren's songs echo in my ears, bringing back the horrible memories and the whispers of nightmares I had long forgotten.

"No," I moan from my pillows. The door swings open.

"You must come quickly," Percy says seriously. "We are approaching our haven, but there seems to be more news." I shudder a little under my garments and motions for him to go on.

"Good news, I hope?" I say, and Percy's eyes darken.

"The boat with the sailors we encountered was dropped off by a larger vessel that was too far away to attack."

"And? Do they have the payment?"

"They—," Percy clears his throat. "They were dead." My stomach drops to my feet. I know what we had to do next; it is clear. We are to kill Prince Jason. Somehow a little part of me finds this wrong, but I have to show my crew: I am not the lenient little girl who was tortured by her past. I'm Scarlet Farer, the most successful and terrifying pirate in the Mediterranean.

"We need to kill him," I say slowly, like I'm speaking through a mouthful of molasses. Even as I say it out loud, it feels as if I'm being stabbed in reverse. It's wrong, a small part of me screams. Percy hesitates.

"That's the thing, Madame." He shuffles uncomfortably. "They were sent back with a note. The King, ah… He's sent Lucas Castellan after us. And it said that if the prince is found dead, we are all to be killed immediately." My stomach drops lower to somewhere below the ship.

If there is anyone a pirate need fear, it's Lucas Castellan. I'm convinced he was a pirate once; I've heard of his torture. He stabs, bleeds, hangs, strings, drowns, throws to monsters, and much more. He's the only being who comes close to being my equal in famed stories.

"How far away are they?" I deadpan, and Percy swallows.

"Not far. A few days' journey. We must pick up the pace, milady, or he will soon advance on us."

"I see." I try to speak calmly, though my stomach is twisted into knots. "Notify the rest of the crew immediately, and do not speak of this to the prince. We don't know what he will do. Perhaps he shall kill himself to get the rest of us killed— the possibilities are endless."

"Will do, Scarlet," Percy says. His nervousness shows through once he salutes me— he's almost never formal with me, but his frequent use of "milady" and "madame" gives him away.

The shuts behind him with a click, and I sink to my bed. This is not good. Not good at _all. _I don't doubt Castellan's tracking skills— he once tracked down my old ship from miles away when he was employed by another ruler. My last precious ship was destroyed. I run my hand absentmindedly, fondly, over the boards near my window as I recall the memory.

I sit bolt upright quickly, realizing something. I tear out of my room, my door slamming shut behind me, a thousand little wind chimes slapping me in the face.

"Percy!" I cry, breathless. "Percy!" I whip around in a full circle, only to be met on my second spin by a golden head of hair. "Damn you, Will," I breathe once my heart has ceased thumping so loudly.

"Anytime, if it'll win you over," Will says with a wink as he drops down from his ropes. His mouth is inches from mine, and I feel his gaze boring into my skull as I glance away. Heat gathers under my cheeks. "Where's your hat, Scarlet?" Will murmurs, making a _tsk-tsk_ noise. "You can't have us see you without your hat." His hands find my braids and they quickly untie them. I feel my stomach turning as my hair tumbles out and over my shoulders and down my back. I can even feel Will's surprise.

"Back off, you stupid lug," I chortle, taking a step back. Will just laughs.

"You'll come around," he says with an impish grin as he tugs himself back up his rope and out of sight. I feel a rush of air leave my lungs as footsteps quickly approach me.

"Are you alright?" The voice is firm and brisk and formal, and as I whip around, knotting my hair back up on top of my head, I'm met face-to-face with the prince.

"What are you doing out from below deck?" I say quickly. He looks surprised.

"I never was below deck. Ever since the sirens—" He breaks off, and I see color dancing across his face. I raise my chin indignantly.

"Well, I'll send for someone to get you there." I bite the inside of my lip at his hurt expression. "Though I'm grateful for your concern."

"I'll take him down," Will says, appearing again.

"Damn you," I mutter again, and I'm met by a wink from Will. He grabs the prince's arm, whose eyes meet mine once more, and leads him away to the deck below. I stalk off after them, hoping to find Percy there as well.

The corridor down to the deck below is dark, and the steps are wet from Percy's and the prince's retreating, sopping wet figures earlier from the sirens.

"Percy?" I call out. "Percy?"

"Scarlet?" comes his voice. He sounds confused. "Where is the prince?" I almost laugh aloud.

"Coming down as we speak," I call back. Soon he walks into sight, looking flustered. Once I see him, all of my giddiness evaporates. "We must speak immediately." Prince Jason turns to glance at us, and I quickly motion Percy over.

"We aren't safe," I tell Percy in a low voice. He glances around quickly as if others can hear him.

"What do you mean? The safe haven is our best—"

"Percy, he knows where the safe haven is. He found out by tracking my last ship. It's the first place he'll go." I'm speaking hushed, quick tones, and as I do, Percy pales visibly. "Damn him. Once he knows where we're headed by following our trail, he'll go straight to the haven."

Percy curses like the sailor he is. "Damn!" he finished, stomping his boot hard on the ground. I shift my weight quickly, thinking.

"The prince's goddamn uncle is corrupt," I mutter, glancing up at Percy. "But I have a hunch that the prince himself is a good man." Percy raises an eyebrow slowly, unsure as to where I'm going with this. Even I'm not completely sure. "Maybe if we assassinate the king, the heir will be Prince Jason."

"How do we know to trust the prince?" Percy scowled, crossing his arms. I hesitate to answer.

"Give him time. He saved me from the sirens when he could have left me to drown out there. He barely knew me. For all he knew, I was some psychopath who only wanted him for the reward." Percy nods slowly in understanding.

"Very well. We'll wait, Scarlet, but not for long. Luke's ships will be here soon, and when they are, it'll be a bloodbath." A shiver goes down my spine upon hearing the familiar phrase. My mind reels into a flashback quickly, and I try to shake it away. "Are you okay?" Percy mutters in a lower voice. "You're having the flashbacks again, aren't you?"

"I'm—" I begin, but I look into his sea green eyes and can't help myself. I soon find myself face-to-face with the scared, lost, teenaged orphan I had claimed nearly as my own child off the streets of Atlantoss. "Percy!" I cry out at the blood blossoming at his shoulder where a knife had grazed him after he had stolen the loaf of bread. So much suffering just for some bread—

"Scarlet!" Percy shouts, and his hands are on my shoulders, shaking me. "You need to rest. You're having them again." He looks worried and frightened, and it takes all of my willpower not to think back to when I'd found him.

"I can't," I say, a firm fear gripping my stomach. I clutch onto his arm after making sure no one is watching us. "Nightmares." Percy sighs, running a hand through his hair, releasing my hands.

"I must watch the prisoner," he says, though there's pity in his eyes. I feel my own flashing; I don't enjoy pity from others in the slightest.

"I'll watch him," I say firmly, and Percy looks a little relieved.

"Just don't fall asleep, alright?" he asks, raising an eyebrow. I nod, a weight lifting off of my shoulders.

"Thank you," I say, and Percy kisses my forehead before exiting. What a lucky girl Annabeth is to have a noble man like Percy.

I turn to the grates of the prison. Will is nowhere to be seen; he must have left earlier. I'm about to turn away when I notice the electric blue eyes watching my every move.

"Are you engaged?" a small voice asks, huskier than usual. It's the prince. I can't see his face, but my stomach twists.

"Of course not. Don't be ridiculous." My accent clicks as I stumble over my words. The prince pauses for a moment. Why is this of his concern?

"He kissed you," the prince says quietly after a few moments. I turn to him.

"He's not my mate, if that's what you're implying," I scoff. "Believe me, Prince Jason, that ship had sailed long before I realized it wasn't my destiny to be with him. He deserves better than I can offer, and Anna—" I cut myself off, remembering that it's supposed to be kept a secret.

"You can tell me who Anna is. I don't know her, but I do know of an Annabeth on this ship who works below deck here." I glare at the prince, but he continues. "Who am I to tell, Madame? I'm only a prisoner here." Something in my stomach shifts, and I reach over to touch the metal of the prison bars. I hear a sharp intake of breath.

"I'm truly sorry it had to be this way, Prince Jason," I say, trying to sound remorseful and only half-trying to change the subject. In truth, I feel slightly sorry for him. "Your uncle is a scheming, murderous liar, and yet you are different."

"Different?" His voice is strained. "Different? I am a monster. My bride-to-be does not love me, and I cannot think of any way to release her from me. My uncle stole her from a far away land, true, but he is not _murderous."_

"Think again, Princey," I shoot back icily. "Who do you think ordered the deaths of all of the pirates in the seas around your kingdom? The gods?" I laugh, throwing my head back. "He killed my friends, and you're complaining about a case of a bad bride."

"He killed pirate scum," Prince Jason says too confidently. I shoot him a deathly glare and feel anger clouding my mind.

"I would not say such things, Prince Jason. You're talking about my family," I hiss, and the prince falls silent. I can feel the fear in his eyes even through the near darkness. It's comfort to know that I can at least feel strong around him. "Get some sleep. We're about to hit a rough patch in our little journey."

"What do you mean?" the prince asks suspiciously. I shut my mouth and stand, afraid I'll say too much.

"You said it yourself. You're a prisoner. Your life isn't going to be easy." I begin to retreat, but I pause as the prince slams his hand against his bars, making a loud, rattling noise.

"You're not even the least bit grateful that I saved your life?" He sounds desperate, but as I listen, it sounds more like hurt. My mind throbs painfully.

"For that I am grateful," I say slowly. "But you really need to sleep, Princey." Prince Jason chuckles softly, a little bitterly, muttering something under his breath as I retreat to the kitchen to nick some food. Fear eats away at my stomach, but it has subsided due to my conversation with Prince Jason. He has made me feel stronger, even if it is only temporary.

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